Steroids And Baseball, by Pirate Joe, 3 April 2006
It's springtime, the sun is shining and the birds are chirping, I'm sitting here writing an article about sports. Yes, sports: something I thought I'd never, ever do.. Everyone else is screaming about baseball players on steroids again, and since I am not much of a sports fan, I'm getting bloody sick of it. Not since the great deadlock over the shape of the negotiating table for Vietnam peace talks in the 1960's have I seen what I would construe as a greater non-issue. It's not that even I don't find baseball intrinsically attractive, I do. I will even listen to some games now and then, but when I do, I find myself pretending baseball is something other than what it is: teams owned by big corporations or the elite, for the purpose of making profits by eliciting a one-sided show of loyalty and devotion from the fans. In other words, a product. No, this is not going to be an anti-capitalist treatise. But it is going to be a treatise about a greed motivated society that can't seem to decide where capitalism belongs and where it does not. What's bugging me here is the socially schizophrenic approach that dictates that some members of an industry, i.e. corporations and the elite, may do what they need to enhance their product and profits, while others (individual baseball players in this instance) may not. As I write this, gasoline is edging it's way towards $3.00 and beyond a gallon (again), and it's hardly considered news. But let another player get discovered on steroids, and it will generate more press than Enron.
Let's take it from the top. Baseball is a game played by professional players and run by professional owners and organisations, for which a fee is charged for attendance and advertisers pay for placement in broadcasts. While I am quite certain that most of the people involved truly enjoy what they do, the primary reason they are there is to make money. That's no crime, but let's be honest about it. George Steinbrenner does not field the New York Yankees simply because he believes that the image of players on the diamond in crisp, clean uniforms is a wholesome one for America to behold. Fans may be quite loyal to their team (or teams) but players are obviously not, nor, for that matter are the teams as a whole, themselves. Anyone want to meet me at Ebbets Field to check out the Brooklyn Dodgers opening day?
It seems that somewhere, somehow, between comic books and T.V. shows on one side, and the baseball diamond on the other, that players took on (or had foisted upon them) the aura of superheros, standing for truth, justice and the American Way. Hey, that's Superman's line! You remember what happened to him (the 1950's T.V. one). He killed himself.
The name of this game is to make money, lots of it and fast. Please don't tell me you're surprised. This is all-out capitalism uber alles: it's what you wanted, right? (After all, you voted Bush in) You got it, so don't complain. Players are not there to be someone's role model. They are there to make money. Which brings me to the issue of steroids. It is not easy to become a professional baseball player. You must endure a rather gruelling progression through various levels of minor league teams, far from home (and) at less than enthralling levels of pay. Once you make it to the majors, you want to stay. We'll be right back, but first, let's take a break and talk about marketing, sales, gross receipts and ratings.
In case you haven't noticed, folks come out to the stadium to see winners. They want to see the best of the best doing what they do best, with precision, grace and results. Ever notice what happens to a slumping slugger who blows a critical at-bat in a crucial game? That's right. He gets booed off the field. If he keeps it up, he gets traded: to a lower level team that's hoping his golden arm (or whatever) will return after they've picked him up on the cheap. And if he still can't get his faded glory back? Well, if he's lucky, a coaching job. If not, and he spent all those millions, he just might be asking you if you want French fries with that burger. But a winner....when a winner steps up to the plate in the last of the 9th and breaks that loosing score with a grand slam homer....when a winner steps up to the mound and delivers a no-hitter that makes first base look as far away as the moon....when a winner charges across the outfield faster than any human could have ever been imagined to run and jumps higher than anyone has ever jumped to make the catch that saves the game....That's the stuff that brings the crowd to it's feet, the stuff that sells out stadiums, the stuff that makes the price of those radio and T.V. commercials soar...and last, but not least, the stuff that makes the Boston Red Sox and the New York Yankees wave multi-million dollar contracts in front of the players that did it.
Back to the issue at hand. Let's look at it from a player's perspective. You've made it to the majors, so you're good, but not necessarily spectacular. The rest of the guys (that made it) are also at least as good as you. You can have a nondescript career bouncing around tenth-rate teams for a few years and vanish into total burger-flipping obscurity. Or, you could take a little pill. A little pill that will blast your batting average into the stratosphere or give you a pitching arm beyond anyone's wildest dreams: a little pill that could bring the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox to your door with multi-million dollar contracts in hand: a little pill that will bring you millions more in product endorsements: a little pill that will keep you playing years after your contemporaries have called it quits: a little pill that will bring you fame, cheers and adoration; (and) allow you to take your place among the luminaries of the time. Did I mention the world's most desirable (at least on that plane) women? Which would you choose? Fame, fortune and success? Or Burger King? You can have it your way.
Incredibly, a society (this society) that views Ken Lay and his buddies as "good 'ole boys doin' what they gotta do" expects our hypothetical major league newbie to be content with his place at the bottom of the baseball barrel (and) to cheerfully fill out the employment application form at Burger King when he's all burnt-out. Please. That's sanctimonious hypocrisy at it's worst. If you want baseball to be of the image of superheros to whom how you play the game is just as important as winning it, if you want players who are role models (whatever that really is) then "reform" it. Take out the big money and all the corruption it always brings, (and) engender an atmosphere in which teams are just as loyal to their fans as they are to it. Stop the usual practice of persecuting the guys at the bottom while absolving the guys at the top, and acknowledge that if there is anything to be guilty of, then the entire system is guilty of it. Since that's never going to happen, sit down, shut up and enjoy the steroid-enhanced game. Hey! maybe Jeb will run in 2008!
If there's anything wrong with baseball players taking steroids, then it's everyone's fault. We have created a society that worships money. We have engendered the 'winning is everything" philosophy. We are the ones who willingly accept the excesses of the ruling class while maintaining a "get tough"/"zero tolerance" attitude towards the little guy. We are the ones that came up with the slogan "money isn't everything, it's the only thing" From "Teapot Dome" (scandal of the 1920's), to the "Savings and Loan" (scandal of the 1980's), to Enron and Tom DeLay of today, we, as a society have sent a clear and unwavering message that nothing is too great to sacrifice at the altar of wealth. Is it any wonder that this attitude has permeated our "national pastime"? Steroids are somewhat dangerous drugs that come with deleterious side effects. If a player chooses to accept those risks as the price of his ticket to the big time, then so be it, it's his body. The down side of steroids is certainly no secret. I don't think that we, as a society, have any moral right to criticise behaviour such as this. Rationally, in the cosmic scheme of things, this is less important than paramecium barf. Let's all move on and find something more germane to worry about.